


What to Do

by mooglecharm (morphaileffect)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: But I can't deny its presence, Fluff, Friendship, Guardian-Ward Relationship, Humor, M/M, Minor Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Protective Ignis Scientia, Really it's so minor you can only see it if you squint, Short, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26087101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphaileffect/pseuds/mooglecharm
Summary: Ignis senses that one member of their party has unrequited feelings toward another, and mulls over what to do about it.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 10
Kudos: 71





	What to Do

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place before the fall of Insomnia. Pretends the gang already has access to Pullmoor Haven so early :D

“Whatever are we going to do with him...”

Ignis was saying this absently, almost as if he didn’t mean for Gladio to overhear.

But the campground was small, and Gladio had committed to helping him set up for breakfast. There was really no choice for Gladio but to overhear.

Noctis and Prompto, on their part, made no breakfast-related commitments. And Ignis spotted them at a reasonable distance from camp, in the tall grass, doing something inane.

They were crouched low and walking around with their eyes fixed on the ground. It looked like they were gathering mushrooms. Or frogs. Or playing some sort of stupid game. Honestly, who knew what kids were into these days...

“Which one?” Gladio said, standing beside Ignis and squinting out at the scene he was watching. “...Prompto?”

Ignis took a thoughtful sip from the coffee mug he held in one hand.

“What do we _need_ to do with him?” Gladio asked.

“I’m not sure,” Ignis carefully replied. “Maybe we could start with the hovering. He hovers. It’s like his greatest joy is in that. Like...”

“Like he’s in love with Noct, or something?”

“Oh yeah,” Ignis quickly agreed. “Head over heels, poor thing.”

Gladio was silent. Ignis finally looked at him.

“...What?”

“Nothing, I just.” Gladio cleared his throat, stuck his hands in his pockets. “Didn’t think you’d notice.”

What a curious comment, Ignis thought. Might have been an insult. But he decided to brush it off for now, and pry into the matter further.

“Has he told you anything?” he asked.

“Let’s put it this way,” Gladio began. “I have a little sister who’s been in love with our prince since she was barely out of nappies. That look in Prompto’s eyes when he’s around Noct? The happy-to-see-you puppy-dog bounce in his step? I’m well acquainted with it.”

Okay. Ignis was looking for more along the lines of “solid evidence,” but that was acceptable.

“But as for him telling me anything?” Gladio shook his head. “I don’t even think he knows it, himself. It’s the sort of thing that’s obvious to other people, but not to him, you know?”

“You’re saying you’ve known from the start?” Ignis challenged.

Gladio shrugged. “Safer to say there’s a good chance I knew before you did.”

Normally, such a comment would be an affront to his pride. Ignis always kept close tabs on Noctis and his associates. And Gladio knew him well enough to know that.

But this was one affront that the royal adviser to Lucis’ crown prince was willing to overlook..mainly because it was true. When it came to romantic sentiments, perhaps he _wasn’t_ the most perceptive.

“I admit, feelings aren’t my department,” Ignis said with a sigh. “But I do make an effort to see things for what they are.”

“Yeah, you and your precious clarity.” Gladio was smiling. “Sometimes things are just obvious, you know? And Prompto’s as transparent as they come.”

In the distance, Prompto laughed loudly. Noctis straightened up to chuckle in response. This did not escape Ignis.

“Do you think that’s what Noct needs, at this point in time?” he asked Gladio. “Transparency?”

“I imagine it’s a relief. After all the rules and decorum and shadow play he grew up around. A bit of transparency must be a breath of fresh air. For once, what you see is what you get.”

 _What you see is what you get._ Yes, Ignis could relate to that. As someone who grew up around “rules and decorum and shadow play” as well, he had long appreciated (and dare he say admired) Gladio’s directness. So different from his own.

Even when being gruff, or sarcastic, Ignis felt he could never fully express his true intentions. He was brought up not to.

“But what about later?” he asked. “When, inevitably, Prompto thinks about taking things a step further?”

“Why are you looking that far ahead?” Gladio laughingly asked back. “Prompto has feelings for Noct. Noct enjoys his company. Right now, there’s nothing more to it. Prompto isn’t looking for more, that’s for sure.”

Ignis couldn’t quite understand this.

“How can someone _want_ so much, so obviously,” he asked incredulously, “and not look for more?”

Gladio stared at Ignis, hard. Ignis found the expression on his face unreadable.

It wasn’t hostile, certainly. But it wasn’t mocking, either. It seemed as if there was a wall between them, and Gladio was seeking out cracks to peer through.

“I think what you really want to know is,” Gladio quietly ventured, “what happens if Noct gets feelings for him, too?”

Ignis paused.

“I must confess,” he carefully answered, “such a turnout is...far from ideal.”

“Because of the wedding?”

Ignis simply took another sip of his coffee as a reply.

“The wedding isn’t for a while yet,” Gladio reminded him. “Maybe we should stop thinking of what-ifs, and cross those bridges when we get there.”

“It’s my _job_ ,” Ignis said, with as much gentility as he could muster, “to think of what-ifs. And avoid bridges that are bound to burn before we even get _near_ them.”

“Is that why you’ve been trying to get rid of the kid?” Gladio chuckled. “You keep sniping at him first chance you get.”

Ignis huffed. “I have _not_ been trying to get rid of ‘the kid,’” he acidly corrected. “I’m simply engaging in comradely banter. Friendly teasing.” Or whatever the fashionable term was for “intimidation” in those days...

“You’re treating him like a threat,” Gladio pointed out bluntly. “And I can tell you right now, that’s one of the surest ways to drive Noct into his arms, and out of yours.”

This caused Ignis to tense up, pull his shoulders back.

“Gladio,” he said in a warning tone, “I know I may behave in a manner that tends toward ‘hovering’ as well - but I can assure you, my feelings toward Noct are not romantic in the _least_.”

“That’s not what I meant,” his friend gently said. “You’re not his dad, Iggy. And even if you were, it’s not your place to decide how Noct should and shouldn’t feel. He’s not a little kid anymore. He knows what’s at stake.”

Gladio laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezed lightly.

“Let him figure his own shit out. Give him a little more credit. Didn’t we decide on that, a long time ago?”

Ignis relaxed under his friend’s reassuring touch. They did. As guardians of the prince, they had made that sort-of pact -

To not meddle. To not get too frustrated. To _stand beside_ \- not to guide.

Ignis let out a long and long-suffering sigh.

“Yes. Of course. You’re right.”

Gladio smiled and gave his shoulder a couple of pats.

Ignis looked out. The two younger members of their party appeared to have finished their game in the tall grass, and were sprinting off to a lake where a particularly large Catoblepas serenely grazed.

Typically, Prompto was leading the way. The prince just blithely followed.

The monster they were heading toward was so big, Ignis could see it from the campground.

“Oh dear,” Ignis breathed. He took a step forward -

But Gladio’s hand, still on his shoulder, held him back.

“What were we just talking about,” his friend quipped, laughter skirting the edges of his voice.

Gladio pulled Ignis back into the campground, maneuvering himself to stand between Ignis, and the sight of the prince and his best friend seemingly trotting off toward certain death.

“Listen,” Gladio said, looking into Ignis’ eyes, “things happen. Feelings happen. _Let them_.”

That was the note he decided to end on. He let go of Ignis, finally, then walked off, muttering something about finding something light to nibble on, because it looked like breakfast was going to take a while.

Ignis pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, pulled the front of his shirt down.

He supposed there really was nothing to do, except to close his eyes against the worst possible scenarios.

To take it easy, for once. The way the person he admired and considered a dear friend told him to do.

And to get breakfast ready, for when the two finally returned to camp.

If whatever they were running toward wasn't going to kill them, they were sure to come back hungry.


End file.
